And He. He keeps talking. With signs that point and beckon, lighting the path. They are awe inspiring in their frequency yet intricate, woven amongst the days I live like thread that holds everything together. And like a beacon they shed light on previously unseen clues and I marvel at them with excited wonder. It is tantalizing as the process is not fast. And on the journey at times my heart droops with hopes seemingly deferred and the signs seem to mock my heart and it's glorious dreams because look at you. You broken vessel.
But he keeps saying it. Faithful. That is what you are. Yet faithfulness is his purest essence and mine is fickle and faltering. How do His eyes see veins of gold. Can it be he sees the heart that desires truth in the inmost parts, that he sees the attempts and intentions and he weighs it up and it is not found wanting because even when the desires do not exceed the struggle they are still golden for just being. It must be. So I take hold again of the fact that he has faith in me. But not only that. He is with me. Despite the failing. He is there, more constant than anyone I have ever known. And I lift my eyes again and there is 44 signalling, and I take a step and see 55 around the bend. And he laughs: 'Grace abundant for you my beloved daughter, fear is no match for your brave heart. And we shall go on together.'
Monday, February 10, 2014
I lit up joy tonight. Walking into my room I turned to the comforting flicker of a candle. And as I held the match to the wick I realized that unintentionally I was lighting up joy; because written across the glass that encased it was that word. Joy. And I smiled, a little ironically as that was the last thing I was feeling. But one can light it. One can keep it burning. One can intentionally choose it when it really seems so far out of grasp. Because this presence we worship. He is joy in all it's fullness and he melts away burdens with his laugh over us. And he is ever ready to burst into flame within our hearts and flood them with his lightness.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Sunday, December 29, 2013
There are many sweet things about life but it is not all sweetness. And when pain swells and every little glance makes you cringe inside it can overwhelm. When all that is looked on is what you haven't done and what you should do and not who you are. And though it comes from good hearts and is done for the best intentions it still pierces. Because by saying you are what you do you are saying I am not enough. I am not blind to my own imperfections. And eyes can glance only so far and not see the deep places. Where the hope has been dashed and the battlements have taken much beating. But where deep down a treasure is shining. For though the dark one may try to rob he can never steal the light. Of the glistening life within. And faithfulness is a treasure of value to the Father King.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
I sat down at my piano last night. And an hour and a half later I came in and somehow I couldn't really give an account of that time except it felt that as I played and words fell out of my mouth, that clarity seemed to unravel before me and re-thread thoughts together. The underlying tumult of the last few months seemed to calm itself as my mind followed in the way of the truthful one. Because in the presence of one who adores you things start to feel possible again. As I gave myself over to his process I could start to see the light that it would bring, that even though we wander sometimes the light is always there and he will come again and renew our eyes so we can see it.
Monday, October 14, 2013
One can not linger forever in the mire of hopelessness when right next to you is one whose hope over you is never ending. Over and over again he calls us. Up! And out! And we try and we sometimes stumble and he stoops and he pulls and gently lifts. And we see his beauty and he looks at us and we hide because we feel so grimy. But he says: 'No. Your brokenness does not define you. What defines you is me. Will you let me help you?' And brokenness is beautiful when he comes and breathes his life and what was broken is renewed and restored and grace shines radiantly upon us. Because where grace rests, he is.
Friday, March 29, 2013
And we walk onward. Into the fire waterfall. And it falls on us, burning yet refreshing, like some age old medicine that exposes and heals wounds. And it draws out the bitter drops of pain, and as it draws it seems so slow. But then the ashes start to fall away.
And as we just keep walking on, walking in deeper we suddenly realize that we are not alone. In fact we are with a Lion. And he gently looks at us. And we see that he is passionate this Lion, he always has been. Since the beginning of the walk, he has been there. Suddenly we begin to realize, he has never left us. And his heart, this lion heart. It beats like a drum and he roars. He roars and he swipes his glorious victorious paw at anything that comes up against us with such anger that we wonder. And sinking deep into our hearts is the realization that this Lion, he would do anything to keep harm from us. Anything. And as we walk we get tired. But we know, oh we know we must keep going. And suddenly we are sitting in rippling fur, and oh. He has us on his back and he is carrying us. Deep, deep, deep and thick and soft and scented with love is his fur. Falling back, our muscles sigh and we rest. And this rest is so sweet that the tears fall mingled with surprise and joy because suddenly? We are home.